Hetalia: Damned By the Tide
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano slash.
1. Pillage and Capture

**Damned By the Tide**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

**Recommended Listening: **"Dream catcher" by Secret Garden

**.:Prologue:.**

* * *

**Night Procession**

by Itzik Manger

The night procession strides with silent steps  
and takes the weeping into all the villages  
Hard hands carry corn bread and wine  
toward your golden starry shine  
Morning star, morning star, eternal light  
erase, extinguish the dark face of night.  
Over our sky, over the earth  
hangs the emperor's cannon and the emperors sword  
black fingers ready to send death,  
Tears are our water, blood is our bread  
restless our sleep and the wind carries  
in its brown hands the eyelids of a child  
and gray women kneel before a bunch of lights  
burning near a sick appearing icon  
Morning star, morning star, eternal light  
erase, extinguish the darkness on the face of night  
The night procession walks and whispers.

* * *

The infamous Spanish demon of the Seven Seas stood at the mouth of a costal village. Destruction laid in his wake, and he grinned, in his smooth red coat. The inner gold lining gleamed in the moonlight, along with the beaded tassels shuffling with his every move on his shoulders. The black silk trimmings accented his loose white shirt. A golden sash adorned his waist, along with a dark leather belt. A white cravat, with a beautiful amber right at the collar, stood at his neck. He wore slim-fitting brown pants, and high black boots.

With a great flourish, Antonio flashed the village a view of his curly chocolate hair. The velvet texture gave off a slight shine, and as did the recently red-spotted white rose pinned to it. A pure white feather bobbed slightly, as the Spanish captain looked about.

Antonio hefted the battle axe from the blood soaked soil easily. His grin was stretched across his face. Emerald eyes smirking, as he said, "Anybody else dare to challenge me?" He turned to face all of the remaining bodies on the beach. No one who could oppose him was even breathing in his direction, most trying to retreat. So, he thought it was all was well, as he hefted the blade onto his shoulder.

He scoffed, balancing the enormous weapon on his shoulder easily. He threw a look over his shoulder to his crew behind him. "Burn their city to the ground and bring me every pretty little face you can find." A chorus of their verbal obedience in Spanish and Antonio watched, smugly, as he saw his crew dispatch to follow his orders.

He heard the screams of women, who hadn't been killed on the battlefield, pleading for their lives and struggling. He saw young children being led away to the…soon-to-be living graveyard as a large bonfire was started. For what did Antonio care for those little brats or their pathetic mothers?

There were just that—brats. He had a couple of his own scattered pretty much everywhere from his long years as a pirate. He couldn't say he didn't love pleasing women, but he couldn't say he didn't like taking them by force either. Either met his needs and one just happened to sate his bloodlust and thrill for killing at the same time.

Antonio smirked, turning on a heel and walking in the direction of his ship. He walked through the broken cobblestone and paved streets, past the broken windows and bloody fragments. He walked past the mutilated bodies of those who had tried to resist his invasion into the mainland.

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"_All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."_

–**Anatole France**

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The Spaniard crossed over the sand dunes, his dark boots crunching softly on the ground. Tall, green wild grass swished at the leather belt at his waist. Blood was colored like ink in the night, but in the distance an orange light glowed over the horizon. It wasn't the sun.

The glow of that orange light made the red and gold depths of emerald eyes stand out, revealing themselves as the visible sights of his bloodlust and greed. The bloodlust and greed of a well-renowned pirate who knew how to obtain whatever it was he wanted.

He was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, world renowned and infamous Leader of the seas. He brought the passion of Spain, and the wrath of Hell, to all of the unfortunate to have crossed his sight on the high seas.

Such as the Italian village, he was currently enjoying burning down to the ground.

He was a pirate, after all. A smirk crossed his lips as he watched the distant flames. The way they danced was almost graceful. Never once faltering as it consumed the buildings and people in its path, for flames are unmerciful.

The fire claimed each and every thing as its own and burnt them, only to move on to the next thing and the next thing.

It didn't stop its lethal dance. Not for the screams and cries of the townsfolk. Not for the memories held inside each home. Not for the money that could have been made from the now destroyed shops. Not for anything, because that simply how fire was.

You could say Antonio was like fire. Unmerciful, unremorseful, deadly, and very, very good at they did. The difference between the two, though, was that, unlike fire, Antonio could not be put out.

Said Spanish pirate went over the dunes, speed increasing as the pleas for mercy and the bargaining of lives of others. He grinned, as his very fingertips itched at his side of his waist. A very lethal sword swung in its sheath, its dark leather casing glinting in the moonlight, and an equally dangerous if not greater danger in the form of a silver pistol.

Both had his name etched into their surfaces in an elaborate script that he liked to make his victims read...Right before he took their life.

And his emerald sight was set on the three forms trying to run off in the distance. He raised his arm, his pistol twirling among his fingertips. He took aim.

That would be one of the shots that rang throughout the world.

Antonio saw with a proud sense of sadistic satisfaction as an arc of red rose in the air, among the three figures. The figure fell, to the other two's complete shock. But the pirate wasn't done yet. There were still two more victims to carry on his name before he ceased their pathetic lives.

It would be later, as he was coming face to face with a dark brown haired young male, holding in his breath and pants, as the younger male's blood continued to paint the golden sand that Antonio began to think of how vulnerable the other male would look.

Antonio smirked. He would be vulnerable, meaning he would be weak. While, Antonio was strong, right now. The Spanish pirate could easily snap his neck, or better yet hear he could hear the smaller boy scream in whatever language he spoke for mercy. Antonio could butcher him, like he knew he wanted to…

Antonio came to the dunes, where his first victim lay. He looked down at him, smirking, as he could still see the shallow intervals of breathing. "Well, well, the little bastardo lived. Isn't that a surprise, I thought for sure, you would be dead." The unmerciful Spaniard slammed his fist down on the bullet wound.

Some squirts of glinting black flew upwards and clung to the bare skin of his hand, and Antonio knew it was blood when the moon's light reflected off of it and showed its red-tinted depths. Antonio smirked. Red was one of his favorite colors.

Lovino cried out, in pain, eyes opening and meeting daunting emerald orbs. The Spanish pirate grinned, and then looked down at his hand. His caramel hand was covered with glimmering red. He smirked, and brought a finger to his mouth to taste. Lovino could only watch in horror.

"You taste good, puto," Antonio grinned, tongue licking up the remainder of the blood. "I'm going to enjoy that flavor of yours." A grin formed on the tan face, and Lovino wished his heart would stop so he could finally die. He prayed to the saints that he could die. His prayer went unanswered, as Antonio took a handful of his hair.

"Whether you like it or not," Antonio grinned, and his tone of voice left no room for arguments.

* * *

Pain acted like a flower on its way to fully blossoming in the brilliant summer sun, the flower flourishing over his skin and nerves, and spreading quickly and with triumph. It sounds beautiful, doesn't it?

But it wasn't. Pain is never beautiful. What pain is beautiful? Lovino was in so much pain. It was an electric current sparking within his blood, and charging and overwhelming every single one of his nerves.

Amber eyes welled, but no tears fell from him, as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Antonio laughed at him. But the sound of it was a bit off, as his hearing was muddled, like listening for noises underwater. His vision swam and tunneled, as if indecisive as to what it wanted to do with him. His head hurt something awful, as if he had hit it on his way to the ground.

But he knew he was doing the right thing by remaining here. By taking every hit and slap and kick from the red bastard, he was gaining more time for his younger brother. His little brother, Feliciano, he had to live.

_"Fratello! Fratello, get up," Lovino heard his younger brother cry out, as he tried to pull him back upright. "Lovino, you have to get up! We have to keep running, like you said, please, get up!"_

_Lovino felt himself suddenly tugged upright, but the sudden pain made his chest clench around his wound and he blinked. The next moment, he was back on the ground, admiring the sand. But his brother, Feliciano, was screaming as he tried to forcefully wipe the blood from his eyes. Lovino had coughed blood onto him..._

_"No, no!" Feliciano sobbed, as he fell to his knees. His and Lovino's shared grandfather tugged him back up, as Lovino looked up and waved weakly. A dark figure was approaching in the distance, and all three of the Italians knew he wasn't anything good. _

_"I'll...stall him, Feli..." Lovino managed, as more blood spilled from his mouth. Feliciano shut his eyes, not wanting to see any more of the blood, and just nodded. He let his grandfather finally tug him away, but he managed one last look back at Lovino. _

But what Lovino didn't know, would soon hurt him severely. Because of his pain, he had missed the earlier shots from Antonio's gun. Just in time to miss the shot that rang out, but to see his dear and old grandfather stumble. The proud man stumbled, but he kept going, despite the wet warmth spreading on the chest. The old man had pushed Feliciano into the river, knowing the boy would know what to do.

But Lovino didn't see how Feliciano kept his eyes burn with tears, as he heard his grandfather land with a dead thump on the ground. Though he would have been proud to see how his little brother let himself sink in the water, knowing where to go to find the underwater cave. It was a cave where he could hide. The other villagers would be there...

_...But not,_ Feliciano thought_, grandpa and fratello_. He broke the surface in the cave. His eyes, already moist with tears, met the other survivors, and all of them waited the next few seconds for another head. But, soon, they too found out that Feliciano was alone.

Their faces told of pain, they had lost their leader in Feliciano's grandfather, and best archer and battle strategist in Lovino. They welcomed the young Feliciano, little Feli would could only cook and tend to the wounded, and cried with him over his dear fratello or grandfather.

* * *

**Well then.**

This is interesting, to say the least, right?

This was one of my poll stories, it won, so here it is! :P

The chapters will probably be like Hell's Tango, but shorter. (Maybe 2-4k+ words, every chapter?) Anyways, it's at or over a certain word count and centering on a certain event or point of view. This chapter was just to introduce you to both sides of the story.

Alright. Good? If you like this story, please say so in a review. If your review is only 3 words long and it's only: "I hate Antonio" or "Lovino is so SOL" (Well, that last one was four, but whatever! You get the point!) I still don't give a fuck. REVIEW. Reviews help me breathe. :D

I love reviews. They make me smile. Favorites do, too, but not the same way.

Oh! And I check my email regularly, my little sadists and dreamers. If I don't see a review with your favorite or a PM in your name, I will be very upset. I will find you and I will spam you with Ukraine-worthy sobs!

That is a promise. D:

**Now, enough of blabbering—**

**READ AND ****REVIEW****.**


	2. The Seeds of Victory

**Damned By the Tide**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alert: PrussiaRocks

Story alert/ Favorites: ** Silan Haye, mooglestookmyheart, Prussian Sinister, Animaegan, CinoChan, Notalittlegirl, Red eyes black phoenix, My name is Birdie, MiraMizu15, shinobiqueen, silver Alida, Vash1300, PrussiaRocks, ShotGunKissandBeyond, WaterVixen, NekoLove1, Moongirl12121**

Reviewer(s)!: ** Prussian Sinister, Animaegan, EmeraldKonoha197, Notalittlegirl, Soriyama, PrussiaRocks , ShotGunKissandBeyond, WaterVixen, Moongirl12121**

Prussian Sinister: I'm so glad you think so, you helped write this thing! :D

Animaegan: Me too, and when you put it like that…bring on the Holy Russian water! :D

EmeraldKonoha197: I'm so glad it does.

Notalittlegirl: I'm glad you think so, and thank you for saying so about my quotes. I didn't know anyone was paying much attention to them. Danke for saying something! :)

Soriyama: I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I had to look up so pirates for Spain, to get it right, but I think it's worth it. Do as you're doing now, reviewing every chapter, and I guarantee I will love you each time you do so.

My name is Birdie: CANADA! :D (PruCan fan.)

PrussiaRocks: I'm glad you do, and you will see more Romano. (Spain and his ass will always have a special place in my heart.)

ShotGunKissandBeyond: You are an awesome player, hun. Two words indeed! XD

WaterVixen: I'm glad you enjoy it so much, here is another update! :D

Moongirl12121: …Because I obviously know Cyrillic Russian. -_- I love Russian, but I can't read it just yet. T-T Alright, with a translator, I got it. ^^ But sadly, yes, GR is with us no more…*sobs hysterically* Stop calling Antonio a bastard, before I call you a potato! :o Feli is not alone, he has the other villagers..!

* * *

**Recommended Listening: **"Sweet Dreams" by Emily Browning

**.:One:.**

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**The Wine is Bitter**

by Moishe Kaufman

I neither laugh nor cry,  
I neither hate nor love  
life is hard for me  
sickening and bleak.

I see no sun in daylight  
nor any dream at night  
They've caged me in iron bars  
like a beast caught in the wild

So what is the use of living  
does it matter this life of mine  
I don't want the golden goblet  
when bitter is the wine.

* * *

A week, it was a week, they said. It was a whole week of lying on a cot, unmoving, and barely breathing half the time. It was a week of Lovino laying on his ass, half dead, from a solid shot a mere hair from his heart, and exposure. It was a week of being subjected to Antonio's eyes, whilst he was forced to remain in his assigned cot until he was fully healed.

It was a week of being under someone else's watch. It was a week of being under Antonio's watch. It was a week of just having to take it, and say nothing. The last time he had tried to snap at the Spaniard to stop staring at him and smirking, he had seen just how dark green could be, and he had found that Antonio had a good backhand.

He learned that Antonio had no quarrels against hitting him. In fact, if anything, he would have thought that the Spanish pirate wanted him to speak, to say anything, to say something that he wouldn't know was out of line, just so he could be beaten to an even redder pulp.

It was once, when Antonio had said something and Lovino had snapped at him. For what, he couldn't remember. But he remembered the aftermath very well. He felt so lucky that the medic had told Antonio to be easier on the Italian while he was still in the early process of healing. If it hadn't been for those words, which he was sure that Antonio had remembered before him, well… Lovino owed that medic his life. A bruised throat and more dark spots on his face were better than not having a face at all.

_Damn him_, Lovino thought. His face hurt. He had told Antonio he wanted off of his ship, earlier, and the Spaniard had laughed at him. Then, he had said Lovino could have off the ship when he had tired of him, and was throwing him to the sharks. Lovino didn't doubt that the bastard would cast him off to be eaten in such a way. Pirates were pirates, no matter who the person had ever been, and Antonio was no exception.

Licking his semi-dry lips, and trying to open his eyes, Lovino tried to bring up an arm to brush his watered down bangs from his face. He was cold, this blanket was shit in cloth-form, and he was probably having a fever.

He tried to slow his breathing, taking shallow ones with a normal speed. His chest wasn't done healing yet. From what he had overheard from the medic on the ship, basically a pirate with some medical training and some sense of pity, the bullet had not left his body. But the medic couldn't pull it out without killing him. So, there Lovino was, stuck with a bullet at his back.

Eyes distant, and face solemn as he scratched at the itchy wrappings on his chest. He looked down at it. He needed a new one soon. The large red spot was pretending to be a stark meatball on the clean plate at dinner. The old and dried stuff was the leftover sauce.

Thinking of food made Lovino hungry, and he scowled. Antonio liked to make him beg for food. But Lovino did not beg, he was – well, he had been – the High Archer of his village. He was able to shoot any target, long or short-distance. He could shoot in the dark, and he could shoot running. Moving targets were his favorite. He was one of the best, and his skill was made even better by the fact that Lovino was a Vargas.

The Vargas family was known throughout all of Italy for their determination to succeed; agility and speed. Lovino wore that title with pride.

With a great effort, he pushed his arms under him to give himself leverage to sit up. Or at the very least, slump. By the moment he was done, he was panting as pain swelled and swam in his chest area. It hurt so much. Like fireworks with nothing better to do, the pain just lit up and exploded and did as it pleased. It paid Lovino's nerves no mind.

The Italian gritted his teeth, narrowing his hazel eyes. He would not give in. he was a Vargas, damn it. He did not give up. Vargas kept running until they are removed of their legs, but even then, they will crawl faster than any man could ever hope to catch up with to achieve their goal. It was an unspoken rule within his family's blood: Never give up.

Forcing his breaths to steady, Lovino clenched his jaw tight, and forced himself to sit straight. He held his chin up in the dark room, unwilling to let pain break him. He wouldn't allow Antonio to break him. He wouldn't allow the figurative, and probable future ones, hold him back. He would find a way off this ship, and back to his brother.

If Lovino had to kill a Spaniard to do it, then so be it. Antonio had made a bad impression on him anyways. He didn't need him, and he had no desire to be friendly either. Just because he was on the bastard's ship, didn't mean he had to like him. Hell, and who said he had to obey the Spaniard either. Lovino hadn't volunteered to be a pirate, nor had he any desire to want to or take the time to think I over and reconsider.

Antonio was a bastard, and if Lovino had his way, then he was going to die a bastard too. He wouldn't get a chance to redeem himself. Lovino was going to strike him at that right moment, when he wasn't looking, and watch from the shores as Antonio was let into a watery grave he had dug the moment he was stepped foot on the Italian's village's shores.

He would get revenge.

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"_Defeat is not bitter unless you swallow it." _

–**Joe Clark**

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It was nearly a week later, and Lovino had astounded the medic by being able to walk around with little to no difficulty. "Well, well, well," the medic had smirked, "Ye mus' be mighty strong, lad. I'll give ye that." Lovino said nothing, he couldn't understand him. Instead, he kept his face flat and somewhat scowling, and he grunted.

He felt the medic poke at closing wounds, and found each wince when the man's nails dig at a sensitive, puckered skin. He held his breath, counting to fifteen in his mind, as he waited the poking out. Then, he had to brace himself for pain, when the time came for the wrappings to be re-done. He had to suck in a breath, to suck in his stomach for the medic to reach around him, as the rough fabric rubbed against his wounds.

Before the stars in his mind could invade his vision, it was over. He grunted, scowling, as he some split blood on the sheets pooling at his waist. He didn't remember when that had happened, but he knew that it probably wasn't a good sign.

The medic tried to get him to speak once more, but once more, Lovino did not understand. "Aye, now lad, take it easy for now. Ye may be getting' better, but it coulda turned for the worst." The frown on his face, along with his lip movements, made Lovino frown. He may not be able to understand him completely, but he could understand body language. Italians were really good with it.

Lovino grunted, and barely gave the medic a nod. The medic sighed, while respecting the Italian's endurance for pain and astonishing healing, he did not like his disrespect or his silence. He had a feeling that if the Captain found out that he hadn't gotten Lovino to talk yet, well it didn't look too good for his future.

And by his future, he meant Lovino's…Antonio could be very impatient with so more things, and if the medic was correct, then Lovino was not an exception to said Spanish Captain's impatience. Few things made his 'Exception List'.

He just hoped that Lovino was able to speak and walk on his own better, when they crossed English seas. Crossing those meant that they would have to deal with one of Arthur Kirkland's lackeys. Or worse, said ruthless English Captain himself. Neither of which was a good idea, if Lovino couldn't defend himself.

He bit his lip, and was about to leave, before he looked over his shoulder. He tried to rifle through the few scattered bits of Italian that he knew and found the one word he was looking for. He barely pronounced it right, "Ar-ma?"

Lovino's head jerked up, from where he had been looking at the sheets. He looked back at the medic, having recognized his voice, and catching the word. Weapon. What weapon? Was he being given a weapon? When? Why? Was something going on?

Lovino replied slowly, seeming to know from just the pronunciation of that one word, and understanding that the medic knew very little Italian. At least he knew some. "Per me?"

The medic paused, and then nodded. He made a swishing motion with his arms, which Lovino shook his head at. Lovino did not like swords much. That required being close enough for someone, while someone else could shoot your open back.

The medic paused again, thinking of other weapons on the ship, and then his grey eyes lit up. He made a pulling motion with his arms, as if drawing back a string, and then letting go. Lovino's brows raised, and the medic saw how everything on the Italian tensed. Lovino was nodding, and the medic nodded back, smiling.

Lovino was an archer; he could tell the Captain that. He could also find the crew who kept the weapons, and get Lovino a bow. He couldn't get in trouble for giving him a bow, right? He would still need arrows to fight, right? So, while he wouldn't be good at offense, he wouldn't be defenseless.

"Uh, si," the medic managed, and then waved as he went out. Rays from the moon drifted in through the moon, and hazel eyes shone as they looked at the door. For a long time, that was all Lovino did. He just looked at the door. Then, he grinned. He would be getting out of here sooner than he had thought.

* * *

**Well then.**

This is interesting, to say the least, right? Lovino is such a strong boy, isn't he? Well, he's finding shit out and getting a bow, so I don't think it matters, right?

…Okay maybe it does.

**Now, enough of blabbering—**

**READ AND ****REVIEW****.**


	3. The Water is Stable Under My Feet

**Damned By the Tide**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: **FireAndStars, Alice Vargas, soul12, infiniteMaddness, Foxdenrider, ICanFlyHigher, xXBlackieChanXx, francypants427, X-x-Kag-Xion-Uchiha-x-X**

Reviewer(s)!: ** WaterVixen, Animaegan, Notalittlegirl, Prussian Sinister, PrussiaRocks, Moongirl12121, ShotGunKissandBeyond, Mary Jane, Mary, Guest, francypants427, xXBlackieChanXx(2)**

WaterVixen: Lol, nice review, under 2 words…XD

Animaegan: Thank you for catching onto the hints, my dear, ;)

Notalittlegirl: I'm glad you think so, there is more to come. Enjoy your reading. ^^

Alice Vargas: Ciao relative of Lovino and Feliciano Vargas! ^_^

Prussian Sinister: Oh my Gott, danke, someone else who think so~ (And you're right about that. Hopefully it won't kill him in this story.)

PrussiaRocks: I'm glad you are enjoying the story and the characters; Lovi with a bow is badass. SpaMano will always be sexy. ^_^

Moongirl12121: I was just thinking about that, and you know what? I don't care, I'm weird. I can d weird stuff! *insert derp face here*…Yes, Antonio is acting like a bastard.

ShotGunKissandBeyond: I'm glad you did, and there is more to come. (Yes, let us pity poor Lovi and give him tomatoes.)

Mary Jane: I am so glad to hear you enjoyed it so! ^_^ LOL, Kpop references all around. XD (Trust and believe, I will always keep writing! No exceptions, I'll just be slower.)

Mary: I really, really want to hug you right now. Thank you for reviewing!

Guest: Will do! :D

francypants427: I like /LOVE/ this review. :'D I'm glad you like the flow and timing of the story, and how I word everything. I hope you continue to like it. (Me too!) No one else has done the poem/song thing? Huh. I thought I got that from somebody, oh well…

I'm so sorry that this update is so short, despite it having been so long. v.v I'm so sorry! Don't spam me with your crying, my inbox is suing me enough as it is! I can't handle another lawsuit!

xXBlackieChanXx: (2)He is a jerk. :/ (But yes, someone will take him down.) GAH! Thank you for pointing that out, it is now corrected. Thank you so much. Rebellious~

**Oh yea, ICanFlyHigher, no you can't. I HAS WINGS! I BEAT-IF YOU! **

* * *

**Recommended Listening: **"Rose" by A Perfect Circle

**.:Two:.**

* * *

**In My Hands**  
by Simkha Shayevich

In my hands I lift  
the goblet of red wine  
in the middle of a field  
up toward the sky  
and bless the red strength  
that flames  
like a torch  
in dark _ hands.

* * *

Lovino felt the biting salt from the water lap at his hands, as he stood on the deck of the ship. Antonio was above him, looking out to sea. But the Italian paid him no mind, as he ran his finger over the smooth wood on the bow that the medic had asked to be given to him. It was a fine thing, possibly stolen off a very expensive trade ship, but Lovino couldn't help but feel the least bit proud that it was now his.

The ends of the bow had a gold crown, and the string was as taut as it was reliable for a quick succession. Running his index finger along the dark wooden and the well-carved handle, Lovino looked back up to the sea stretching out across the horizon. He wondered what it would be like to swim.

Did any of the crew know how to swim?

Dismissing the thought as easily as he brushed aside his bangs from his face, Lovino readied the bow. His finger drew the string back, farther and farther, and then – _twang_! Had there been an actual arrow, it would have made perfect precision with the water line.

That's all that was out here: water and more water.

Lovino couldn't swim very well, he only knew enough to keep himself afloat, but that was all. He would just sit there in the water, until his limbs gave out and he drowned.

But maybe, he could change that. There was no telling how long he would be out in the ocean, so he might as well learn how to swim…that and what the crew spoke. He didn't think just speaking in simple phrases with the medic was helping him much.

Speaking of the medic, Lovino needed to find him, his bandages needed changed. It was barely more than a fading scar now, but occasionally, it needed attention where the Italian had moved too quickly and pulled the skin back open to bleed.

Lovino patted his chest, past the loose white shirt and the slim black vest. He was feeling out for any warning signs, and felt only the barest wetness near his upper ribs. He couldn't think of what he had to have done to open it there, but he would find the medic so he could take care of it.

Walking around, and then going through a small corridor in the under body of the ship, he came upon a locked door. It wasn't the medic's room, but he could hear his voice inside.

"They comin' here? I thought ye were headin' for the east…!"

Lovino's brow furrowed, as he inwardly wished he knew more than bits and pieces of what they saying. It always seemed like they were speaking faster than they really were, but he knew it was because he didn't really know the language well.

Nevertheless, Antonio's voice sent chills of fear up his spine, but what the Spanish Captain said was anything but frightening.

"No. Listen when you're spoken to, Thomas. I said: _we're_ going in the same direction as they _already were_. The tides changed, and there is a chance we may meet at some point."

Who was this we? Lovino could only dream of knowing. Antonio didn't trust him, so it was unlikely he would tell him anything. The medic knew very little Italian, so it was doubtful that Lovino could ask him if the other would tell him anything.

"Oh…I see…what ye wanna do then?"

Lovino concentrated on hearing the conversation, so much so that he missed the glimpse of a dark blimp in the distance over the water. Just as Lovino thought he understood Antonio's words to know the Captain had said they were going on, the Italian lifted from his previous stance and made to walk off.

He kept walking down the small hall, thinking of everything. He had a bow, but no quiver or arrow. He had a life, but only a medic that was 'employed' under the very man who had nearly put him close to death. He was on a ship, but he couldn't swim. He was on his own will, but he still felt trapped.

He didn't like feeling trapped. Frowning, he tried to think of something to lift his mood. Being in a dark mood around the Spanish Captain had led to multiple bad encounters. Lovino liked his face where it currently was, and didn't want to be back where he had been when he had first gotten on the ship. When he had nearly been on his death bed, almost every day, every breath and heart beat a battle between his mind and body.

Just as he was nearing the end of the corridor, he felt a string of electricity surge through him. He ducked down just in time, to miss the loud _boom_ and the split second later as a gaping hole was built behind him. His amber eyes were wide, as he looked back at the hole and then at the now closing in blimp in the night waters. It coming at them, and firing cannon balls.

Lovino blinked, as he connected the earlier conversation he had overheard. Was this the 'we' that Antonio and the medic had been talking about?

Whatever it was, Lovino knew it was a ship, and that they were firing at Antonio's ship. For some reason, Lovino felt a grin come alive on his face. Standing slowly, with confidence he knew only came out when he was about to fight. The thrill of battle, it made him alive, that's why he was one of the best. He thrived in the adrenaline and the chase. It's why the Vargas were such great offense.

He took off in the direction of the armory, when the medic had given him a bow, Lovino had made it a point to have already been mostly healed.

He had done enough exploring now, that he knew where the weapons were. He was going to fight in this attack, and he was going to show the Spaniard on board, just who he had on board. Lovino wouldn't fight for the Spanish bastard, but he wouldn't allow the ship he was on to sink with him on it, damn it.

Vargas' Honor: He was going to feed the sharks tonight.

_**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

"_There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them." _

– **Dr. Denis Waitley**

_**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

Just as another boom sounded throughout the ship, and made the walls shudder, Lovino brought his foot up and smashed it against the doorknob. He didn't have the time to play charades with some crew member to get the key. He would just break the lock.

_BOOM!_

Lovino brought his foot back, as another shudder and a groan went through the ship. He smashed it through, this time, and grinned as the door gave way and opened. He ran inside the armory, amber eyes taking in everything and anything he could use. He found a cluster of expensively embroidered quivers and more than plenty of arrows.

Just as he made a move to grab the closest one, his eyes caught on something glinting on the floor. It was a pair of dark blades, possibly obsidian, with a pretty red gem at the golden hilt and dark grey carving drawn on the dark face of the dagger. It looked like the kind he used to see his grandfather using for the really awful attacks.

Thinking of his deceased grandfather made his blood boil in his veins. His golden eyes narrowed, as the dark blade seemed to be taunting him as the rocking of the ship seemed to be bringing it closer to his fingers. Antonio was the reason for his anger.

He hoped the pirate was being cornered.

_BOOM!_

There was a shudder throughout the walls, and Lovino made a hasty decision, as he took the blades and strapped them to his person. It wasn't anything really. He was already down here; why not steal a few more things. It's not like the Spanish bastard and his crew members were really concerned with whatever he might be doing right now.

Lovino grinned, as he stood up. There was the sound of footsteps and commotion coming from down the hall. Taking a newly gained arrow, and pinching its tail as he aligned it, Lovino thought of all the fun he was going to have.

This would be the reward that he would give himself for lying in bed for weeks on end, and taking abuse where it wasn't needed.

Victory would be as sweet as tomatoes.

* * *

**Well then.**

I finally managed to update, thank Gott, and I managed to finish my research paper early too! W00t! so as a reward to myself, and a treat to my followers, I decided to update a few of my stories. And upload some new ones that I might never continue.

Hahaha – *bricked*

…Okay maybe I'm a little cruel. Ah well, at least you guys can say I finally came back after such a seemingly long month? (This reminds me of this one story I'm following. She only seems to update, when I do…and I've been begging for an update for like a month, and this story hasn't been updated in like two….)

Coincidence? Probably not.

**Now, enough of blabbering—**

**READ AND ****REVIEW****.**

EDIT: I think next chapter is the actual fight scene, so you guys get to see Lovino in action! :D Good luck with waiting for it!


	4. The Enemy of My Enemy is My Friend

**Damned By the Tide**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

**Recommended Listening: **"Blow Me Away" by Breaking Benjamin

**.:Three:.**

* * *

**No Title (The Night)**

Simkha Shayevitch

The night has rocked me to sleep in her lap  
and sung into my ear  
the song of darkness and sweet dying  
but I was awake and aware  
heard my young hot blood  
prepare to fight  
against it

* * *

At the front of the ship now, Lovino could almost taste the smoke and feel the air tingle along his arms. He could distantly hear Antonio commanding people around in both Spanish and English; he could hear the medic doing the same, whilst packing a small pistol and decking himself knives in several concealed locations.

But Lovino paid them no mind, all he could focus on, all he could find himself mentally putting as his challenge was the being on the other ship. It was a being with a red coat and a black hair over blonde hair, a figure that kept marching over the deck of his ship with a predator's grace.

Lovino wanted to wipe the grin off his face, the Italian could see the man's ego from here, and he wanted to take him down. He didn't care how and why, he just wanted to be the one to kick the man in the water.

The Italian felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see the medic glaring at him, "Ya can't fight! Are ya crazy? Ya want to be kill'd?" Lovino cocked his head, silently, and then heard Antonio bark at him for him to be on his guard. Lovino had learned more Spanish than English, unfortunately for the medic.

"Be quiet," the Spanish captain said to said medic, as he grinned, "I want to see what he does." The English medic looked between Lovino and Antonio, saw how the Italian's utter revolt for the captain, but the Spaniard's interest. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and then choked out, "Si, señor."

Lovino broke his gaze first with the captain, making the other snort in amusement with his damned smirk, as the Italian chose to look back at the other ship. It was coming in closer; but Lovino just needed a few more feet.

"What is he goin' to do?" The medic asked aloud, and Antonio shushed him silently, and his grin grew wider. Lovino pulled the bow from his back, and took the tail of the first arrow he had touched in what felt like years.

He pulled the string tight, leveling the arrow as he went, it almost wobbled from his lack of practice while he was injured, but his fingers quickly locked onto memory and righted the wooden rod. Amber eyes were looking straight ahead, dead at the red-coated man.

The red coat couldn't clearly see what Lovino was doing, but the Italian could see him.

_Need more projection_, he thought, and Lovino climbed a small step ladder on the deck, still keeping his arms straight and his arrow poised. He had a better angle now. Antonio chuckled, but the medic was silent with near awe as the Italian let the arrow go with a sudden _twang _–

The red coat heard the whizz of air a bit too soon, just enough to save his skin, as he turned and the deadly-targeted arrow missed his heart and went straight into the back of a crew member behind him. The large man coughed up blood, holding his bloodied chest, as he tugged on the arrow. He tugged vainly, harder and harder, only injuring himself further. Even as the red-coated man Arthur broke the stick from the man's back and tried to shove it through.

But unbeknownst to him, the wood had serrated edges from the way that Lovino had pulled it along the string. The arrow had come off so fast, the wood hadn't snapped, but simply prickled, thus making it harder to get out of the victim.

It was a neat trick that Lovino's grandfather had taught him.

He had even nearly risked pricking his finger on the tip, but then he saw the oily surface of the arrowhead, and knew immediately it was poisoned. By the time the red coat had gotten the arrow free, some gore attached, several more were whistling through the air. The red coat used the dead man's body as a shield, and called out, "Incoming! Don't risk a hit!"

Lovino was grinning, the arrows spilling from his bow as fast as he could take aim, and the sound of them leaving the bow, was like music to his ears. He had already signed several men's death warrants, but he wanted more. He wanted that red-coat on his knees.

The medic applauded, as Antonio simply grinned and told the rest of the crew to fire while the other ship was in panic. Lovino heard nothing, but the booms of cannons and the sound of his arrows coming to life. Until all of a sudden, he saw the red coat had a bow of his own.

He drew it just like Lovino did, right as the Italian did, and both went off with a _twang_ –!

"Cazzo!" Lovino shouted, even as he ducked out of the way just in time. The medic was not so lucky, being right behind Lovino, and taking the spiked arrow right in the shoulder. It wasn't a fatal wound, but it could become one if treatment was prolonged. There was also the necessary precaution to check if the arrow had any sort of poison…

"What the Hell happened here!" Another crew member was downed from another one of the red-coat's arrows. He was slower than Lovino was, but no less efficient in his archery. Lovino growled, and did what needed to be done. He broke the arrow, and saw in the middle: lead.

He wanted to scream. _So much for no threat of poison_, he realized, as he tried to be as careful as possible to push the offending arrow through. When he was through, he put the medic on the floor next to him, preparing to guard over him. He readied his arm for another arrow, but found no red coat to shoot. Instead, the ship looked almost empty.

He swore, as he saw the large black ball coming right in his direction. If he had looked at the window it had come from, he would have saw the red coat's face in the window, grinning.

_Damn it_, Lovino thought, his body paralyzed in shock and a fear of what was looking to be painful. _He should have seen this coming!_

Right as he thought he should be anticipating a quick death, with only the medic and the crew to witness it, he found himself on the floor and underneath Antonio. At the exact moment, when his chin collided with the floor, it hurt, and he realized that the Spaniard had more weight to him than what met the eye. But he looked like he was all muscle. No wonder he could pack a punch.

Antonio's weight didn't stay long; he pulled Lovino to his feet, and barked at him in broken English, "No hurt, so no why as to fall! Move now!"

Lovino tried to decipher it, but he found himself only managing a bit of it. He saw Antonio sling the medic over his shoulder and dash away, just as the rest of the crew looked to be anticipating to either be boarded or to board the other ship.

Lovino looked out past the water – the only "barrier" between the other ship and Antonio's vessel – and readied another arrow. He spied someone in a window, someone who looked to be giving orders, with his back turned no less.

Lovino shot him, right in the back. The man in the window stumbled, and then fell over. Now, there was chaos in that room. Lovino put away his arrows, switching to the blades on his back. He put his foot on the wooden rail, spying Antonio out of the corner of his eye, having appeared from seemingly nowhere, and the Spaniard nodding.

The Spaniard did the exact same thing, a few feet away, but he was wielding a heavy-looking axe and something else on his belt, and then just as the front of the ship was close enough –

Both he and Antonio leapt aboard the enemy ship.

_**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

"_In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you._"

– **Deepak Chopra**

_**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

Antonio landed as a predator, with a maddening glint in his eyes and a wide and maniacal grin, spinning on his heel and slicing directly through a pair of men who had tried to bare swords at him. Lovino landed as a cat, a lithe and deadly cat, as his heels touched down on a head, which he deftly severed, before he jumped into a run along the wooden deck.

It was time to find the red-coat.

Lovino was darting about, ducking under sweeping blades and swiping his own blade upwards to either clash with another and create sparks; or to create a fatal stab wound or slash through someone's chest. He would dodge the onslaught of weapons, and attack back with all of his might. He would kick barrels over, and spill their contents, using them to roll across the floor.

He would jump and duck, he would kick and dodge, he would strike and twist; h would pull back and recoil. He would continue on his way, and then dodge again. He would dash forward, his eyes and moves never missing a beat, as he ceased another life.

Lovino was on the floor again. There were several men surrounding him. The floor beneath him was throbbing with the vibrations of the cannons going off in multiple successions. The waves lolled over the deck, as if a storm was brewing, but it was only the commotion on the two ships affecting the water. But Lovino held his stand, he saw some crew stagger, but the Italian stood at his full height and straight in his corner.

Eyes narrowed, and his swords pointed to the ground, the Italian flexed his wrists, ready to strike. He felt another bomb go off, and then as the ship lurched, and like a snake, he struck. He stabbed through a crew who staggered, and used his own body as a living shield as he went for another crew member and threw the body with his momentum.

Just then, there were more and more coming. Lovino flicked his blades of some of the blood, eying what he was up against. Many of the crew were twice his size, and very burly. They had swords, all sharp and not a single one close to dull.

"Where ya think you're goin', lad?" One crew member spat, closing in. He attempted to grab Lovino by his hair, but the Italian made swift work of the crew's hand. The man screamed in agony, and went back, only to call over several men and for the circle around Lovino to grow tighter.

The Italian was in a bit of a pickle.

He took a deep breath, and then he took a risk. He dashed forward, attempting to cut through the crowd, possibly literally, but his plan was foiled when a rough hand took him by the back of his neck and slammed him down.

Lovino felt his back connect with hard wood, and just as he opened his eyes to see the crew member attempt to stab him in the face with a deadly scabbard, the ship lurched to the right, and Lovino let himself roll in between the crew member's legs.

He was nearly grabbed, but then he thought of the other items he had stolen from Antonio's armory. He took the flare stick from his waist band. The tip scratched and caught on the piece of wooden splinter. The Italian tugged at it, nearly about to give up on it, as a crew member attempted to behead him, but then the tag snapped and burst into flame.

For some reason, Lovino saw the flames blooming in his hands, and he threw it as hard as he could. The flare hit the exact window of Arthur's cabin, and smashed right into a well-placed bottle of rum. The rum spilled all over the papers on the desk and the ones that had fallen onto the floor. The still-lit flare took light on all of the rum and promptly exploded.

Lovino dashed, as the explosion caused anyone nearby to scream as hot glass and burning wood pierced their skin. The Italian was dashing through everything, and for some reason, going up stairs going up in hungry red flames.

He didn't know why he was even running; it felt like he was just going instinct. But when he reached the top of the stairs, he thought he saw something. Two blurred forms amidst the smoke and fire, fighting and seeming to bring about more sparks between them.

It was the red coat and Antonio.

Obviously, if the Spaniard's face was any indicator, the two did not get along at all. The red coat's attention was solely focused on Antonio, and the giant axe that the Spaniard was attempting to drive through his head. The red coated figure was nearly bent backwards, trying to hold off the larger weapon, with a pair of elegant and well-crafted swords.

"Burn in your own Hell, Kirkland," Antonio growled, and the red cot muttered back something that made the Spaniard's meadow eyes flash nearly golden red in anger.

"Don't disrespect him with your mouth!" Antonio brought his axe up, and then quickly down in an attempt to slice the red coat in half. Said man dodged, just barely, and then made a strike of his own. Antonio deflected both, eyes livid and mouth set in a snarl.

Fire and smoke was going on all around them, the ship was going down, and the waves were trying to make a very violent work of it. But the red coat was grinning, probably thinking that he could take the Spaniard down with him to the watery graves below.

Lovino reached behind him for an arrow and found one, but because of the odd distance and the smoke, he couldn't use his traditional method. Instead, he bent himself in such a way to hold the bow to the horizon. He squinted one eye, and then drew the string back as far as he knew he could.

Antonio and the red coat continued to fight, and just when Antonio thought he had his opponent in a corner, he swung his axe powerfully. The red coat grinned in the smoke, and struck down at the Spaniard's leg, right as he dodged.

Antonio shouted out in agony, nearly bent over in agony, until he saw that he just sliced through a flaming second and thinner mast, but with no less deadly crushing weight than its thicker and first counterpart.

Antonio was caught in a dilemma. If he removed his axe, the mast would crush the ship in half, and he would crushed or driven beneath the ship and possibly killed, before he even drowned. But if he didn't, then he was sure to be beheaded or something equally worse to result in death.

The red coat grinned as he saw Antonio's conflicted face, his hands attempting to take his axe back, whilst still digging Arthur's first sword further through his leg and into the wooden flooring to hold him in place.

The red coat laughed, just as he raised his sword to deal a fatal blow – Right as, Lovino let off his bow with a sudden _twang_!

The red coat spun at the last moment, once more, but he still driven through his chest, and knocked to the ground to nearly fall over into the fiery mass of flesh and burning wood on deck. Lovino dove over to Antonio, giving him one loo, before pulling the sword cleanly free. The Italian ignored the Spaniard's curse, but took the words in silence, as he helped the Spanish man retrieve his axe.

The weight of the weapon made him stumble, but Antonio took it from him easily, and balanced well. The moment the axe was free, the mast fell, and Antonio was looking for the red coat.

But the man announced his own presence, with a barked, "No bitches allowed on my ship!"

Lovino stood straight, gripping his bow tighter, as he glared. Antonio smirked, as he scoffed, "Are you angry that said _puto_ put an arrow in your side?" Lovino tried to ignore how the Spaniard used the same word from when they met at that moment, after he had possibly just saved his life.

The red coat glared, clutching his bloodied wound, and readied his sword. Antonio braced his axe, as the ship groaned and the fire surged up all around them. Lovino blinked once, and then, he found himself taken by surprise when the red coat was suddenly in his face, livid.

A sword was brought to his neck, but then he was taken by surprise again when Antonio took his waist and pushed him back. Sparks flew at the clash of metal. But then came the screeching noise as the red coat went down on his knees, his sword clattered to the ground.

The red coat was slumped over, barely managing gulps of the smoke-filled air, and weakly glaring at Antonio. "Well, do it. Have your revenge. I hope Francis is worth it."

Antonio did nothing. He didn't even glare, just stared flatly. The red coat's hat was long gone, his blonde hair visible to Lovino to be covered with ash and blood. The Italian had never noticed before, but the red coat had been injured prior to his arrow.

His right eye was closed, a thick cascade of red over it, the blood keeping his eye shut. His lip was busted, and one arm was bent slightly and bloody. His coat was burned and torn, barely holding together at the back. His shirt was torn and bloody on the front from previous wounds. He had a line on his cheek, as if something had skimmed it. So, the red coat couldn't dodge everything.

The red coat was bowing his head, and looking Lovino in the eye, from his point on the ground. Antonio's boot nearly slid on the groaning floor, but then just as the ship was about to split in half on their side finally, the Spaniard made a hasty idea.

"Don't struggle," the Spanish captain said, and took the red coat his collar to break the arrow. The blonde man groaned in pain, but didn't move much otherwise. Lovino had put his bow aside, for one of his blades.

Antonio startled the Italian with a shouted, "Keep up with me, amigo!" The Italian found himself nearly startled when Antonio barreled past him over the floor. But the smaller male soon caught up with him, and was keeping pace, despite the taller one's longer strides and leaps and bounds. The smoke didn't help, and neither did the fire.

When the Spaniard finally stopped, it was grab Lovino by his collar and throw him over the side of the ship and into the water, where a boat was waiting conveniently. The Italian bounced on the floor, and made a crew member scoff. The Italian looked up just in time to see a large explosion go off, just as Antonio leapt over the edge, with the read coat in tow.

It was a magnificent sight, and one that Lovino found himself still in awe in, when the Spaniard landed on the boat and nearly tipped it over with his sudden weight and force. The Spanish captain ordered the crew present to row back to the ship, but Lovino noticed that Antonio never sat down.

Instead, he kept his eyes distant, as his hands gripped the axe tightly. Lovino looked back at the burning ship, how the red coat was growing paler and more quiet with breathe he took. The Italian didn't feel guilty at all, but he wondered what Antonio was doing with the red coat in his arms.

**What could he want with a supposed enemy?**

* * *

**Well then.**

I'm back, I have some of the information from Doc. Manager, but I had to find my poems AGAIN. Mind you: the 1st time I had to find them, took me a WHOLE HOUR. So imagine how long it took me to find all of them.

Gott verdammt, I hope the person who stole my flashdrive is eaten by savage TREES who feast on the blood and flesh of those who steal from Prussian descendants.

**READ AND REVIEW.**


	5. With Eyes Wide Shut

**Damned By the Tide**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

**Recommended Listening: **"My Confession " by Otep

**.:Four:.**

* * *

**Not Chosen**  
by Moishe Kaufman

Not sought out, not chosen  
take from life all it can give  
In the blink of an eye  
everything passes by

Seek no tomorrow, seek no friends  
this day alone belongs to you  
grasp, take without concern  
before life slips away

Laugh at laws, morality,  
they're merely papers, pay no heed  
written by human vampires  
To Hell with them!

You'll not live, not enjoy  
know this now  
in the blink of an eye  
you'll die anyhow.

* * *

"Fuck-!"

The sound of accented English met Lovino's ears, and he cocked his head at the sound. It had been only a few hours aboard the ship, and it was also dead night. Who was screaming so loudly?

Placing bare feet upon the wooden floor of his room, the Italian was careful of his sore body; he padded over to his door, careful of the slight sway of the waters' influence upon the ship and moved on. He could hear the sounds of struggle, and even louder swearing coming from further below deck. Lovino almost paused, as he walked past Antonio's room.

The Spaniard had yet to make an actual appearance from outside of his own room, and while the Italian liked not having the man breathing down his neck or hitting him over small little detail gotten wrong in his Spanish or simply being around when the Spaniard was pissed, the Italian did wonder if the other was alright. _Ah well_, Lovino told himself as he walked on, he didn't so much care for the bastard personally. He just wanted security that he wasn't going to starve on this ship.

But the medic was always busy too, trying to help some sailor replace his bandages and then keeping another man down as he applied medicine, and then helping some sailor who was hell-bent on overdosing himself on opium stolen from the red coat's ship amidst the chaos.

"Do that again, and I'll throttle ya!"

Lovino frowned at the unfamiliar voice. Well, on second thought, it was familiar, but then it wasn't. he heard it before, but he hadn't heard them speak enough times to identify a voice with a name right away. But he knew that it was someone who had been on the ship or that he had been in contact with at some point. And they were speaking English, so…little choices here.

"Fuck you, burn in Hell!"

And they had such a mouth on them, really, Lovino thought he was vulgar for swearing in Italian on the occasions when he stubbed his toe or was around people he didn't like. Or being on the Spanish bastard's ship, that pissed him off more than anything; he would always mutter some curse when the Captain was around, if only because he knew that he could get away with it.

"Let me do it myself, ya little heathen, I know what you're- Fucking bloody Hell!"

Lovino blinked, as he found himself in front of the medic's room. There was a minor commotion going on inside, and when the Italian tried in indulge himself in eavesdropping by putting his ear to the door, he was only rewarded when someone on the inside kicked the door hard enough to make it shudder and nearly open from the wrong side.

Eyes slightly wide, as the commotion noise level rose and the fighting seemed to grow even more intense, Lovino frowned, as he took hold of the doorknob and opened the door. He was met with quite the sight.

The medic was practically straddling the near naked waist of the redcoat…except the redcoat no longer had his coat, or even a shirt at all. His entire chest was bare and open to the eye, besides the wrapping that the medic was struggling to get him to accept.

"Bugger off, you little eejit," the sneer made at the last word made a small rush of color come to the medic's face; as said man made quick work in hitting the back of the downed Captain's back. The redcoat was still struggling however, bucking and kicking to get the man off his back. It explained the commotion.

The medic was nearly thrown off, before he took the redcoat in a headlock, despite his smaller frame, and went, "Calm down, you're acting like a damned animal!" The medic finally recognized Lovino standing in the doorway, blinking and just standing there.

The medic laughed shakily, trying to brush the hair from his grey eyes. He was getting frustrated with the ex-Captain, and he was trying to let it show in how he roughly handled him as he thrashed around.

"Um, ah, per favor-e?" The medic started, missing how both the ex-Captain and Lovino seemed to pause at his speaking in Italian. "Hai po-tuto, um, il mio farm-aco?" Frowning at bit at the translation, but understanding the words nonetheless, Lovino took a cautious step inside the room. He scanned the cabinets, eyes coming to a pair of bottles on the desk where the medic was often working. He looked back at the medic, pointing to the open bottle.

Lovino made to sniff it, seeing the bottle as almost a pale lavender kind of color, assuming it to be a fragrance, and the medic called out, "No!" He immediately covered his mouth with his hands, looking out to the door, as if he was holding his breath, waiting to be caught for doing something bad. Lovino took a step away from the lavender bottle, it was obviously not something good then, and he eyed it warningly. What could it be then?

The ex-Captain's head collided with the floor with the medic's sudden release of it, and the captured blonde grunted as he bit down on his tongue a tad too harshly. He spat out a bit of blood, snarling, and trying to get free once again. He was only an inch free, when the medic grabbed him again. The ex-Captain huffed, and then went still again, as the medic continued on in broken Italian, "N-no, il, um… altri bott-ig-lia."

Lovino came up with cream colored bottle, and the medic smiled, nodding his head. Once more, he had pushed his brown hair from his eyes, as he took the bottle. "Sì," he said, "Grazie." He was smiling again, and then that smile diminished slightly as he pulled the cork from the bottle and then waved it under the ex-Captain's nose.

Said blonde immediately thrashed wildly, enough for Lovino to worry about what was in that new bottle. Had he basically chosen something worse?

However, within a few seconds, he saw a drastic change in the thrashing blonde. One, he calmed down immediately. Two, he stayed calm. But upon closer inspection, his eyes were a bit glassy looking and the blonde blinked very slowly, as if he was drugged.

Lovino turned to the medic, eyes a little suspicious, and the brunet was greeted with the sight of the medic getting off the ex-Captain and corking the bottle to shake it proudly, declaring, "The good stuff, roba buona!"

The medic walked away, leaving the drugged blonde on the floor, as he went to gather more bandages and a needle and thread. Lovino watched curiously as the medic stitched various blade wounds, and cleaned them. He saw swift work in the needlework and how the medic wrapped and tightened bandages. He was impressed, almost thinking of taking up the skill, until he remembered that he wouldn't be aboard the bastard's ship long enough for him to learn it. Or maybe, he could learn it anyways and then use it back home?

Yes, he would do that.

Deciding that the best course of action was done in curiosity, Lovino went to the cabinet of colorful bottles and grabbed the first thing to his attention. It was a hazy bottle with green leaves. He made to uncork it, when the medic came up from behind him to snatch it away and then wave his finger in his face, saying, "No, non per voi."

Lovino frowned. He didn't want the bottle; he wanted to know what was inside. He tried to take it back, but the medic raised it above his head, making the Italian snarl in anger. He hated how many people on the ship were taller than him.

But then he paused, almost frowning, as he remembered that the medic knew very little Italian and almost said something, but then shut his mouth immediately. His eyes went all around the room; until they caught a recently shelved book in the medic's little room. A book on Italian medicine, this was how the medic was giving himself the opportunity to learn more of the language. Lovino's eye twitched and he gave the medic a level glare, before stomping over it and then taking it from the shelf and saying, "Si impara da questo?"

There was a momentary gap of silence, as the blonde on the medic's little patient cot groaned; as the ship rocked on the waves, and the medic gave a slow, "Si….?"

Lovino put the book back, and then went to sit on the medic's cot, looking up at the ceiling, "Imbrogli bastardo di…" The medic thought over the words, and then his face tinted a bit, as he retorted, "I'm no cheater! I-!" But he cut himself off, as he realized that Lovino was giving him the blank look again, and then he huffed and went to shoo the Italian off the cot.

His ears were turning pink, and the blonde looked like he was trying to use his fingers to grab something out of his reach. He looked like he was getting frustrated, and while both of the other occupants inwardly wondered if the blonde was sensitive to opium, said substance was thrown off the medic's desk by a sudden and rather violent wave.

It was only barely caught by Lovino, as the medic tried to keep his cabinet from opening from the force. Both brunets looked at each other, and then at the blonde giggling on the cot, playing with the air.

"The nutter…" The medic said to no one, and when Lovino looked to him for a translation, the medic gave none. Instead, the medic went to the window and checked the weather outside; frowning when he saw it was a calm night with little wind to have done that wave. He shook it off as a coincidence, and went to scribble on a piece of paper sticking from a page in a worn out journal on his desk. He was scribbling for a while, as Lovino took to alternating his stares with both the medic and the blonde still giggling to the air.

At one moment, the Italian went into the blonde's line of vision and he flicked the air in front of him. There was a moment of silence, as the ex-Captain just stared at his empty hands, and then he looked at the Italian. He slurred something, and then went to grab at the younger's nose. When he opened his hand, he giggled, and he showed Lovino and the Italian immediately backpedaled, jumping up, and grabbing the first thing on his person to be used as a weapon. In this case, an actual weapon, a knife that he had stolen and yet to have given back to the Spanish bastard's armory.

"What in the Hell is goin' on?" The medic started at the mild commotion, and when he saw what was in the blonde's hands, he went stiff.

It was a bloody rosary.

It was the rosary that Feliciano had always worn. It was the one that had been broken from his little brother's neck, when Lovino had rushed him from their burning home, on the day when Antonio had stolen him from their island home. But the rosary had been left in Italy. In the blood and sand, and Lovino thought it had been burned up in the ashes of their burning home. There was no way that ex-Captain could have gotten it. He hadn't even been there to witness the attack.

But there it was, blood and ash and gems still intact.

_**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

"_Difficulties are meant to rouse, not discourage. The human spirit is to grow strong by conflict._"

– **William Ellery Channing**

_**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**_

"Do-dove hai preso quella?" Lovino snapped, as the medic rose to his feet. He didn't understand the significance of the necklace, but Lovino did and he intended to kill the ex-Captain to get it back. The Italian came closer to the blonde, eyes furious and his blade drawn and in front of him. He wouldn't be afraid to cut him again.

The ex-Captain giggled on his cot, and pointed at the air. The medic almost stiffened, as he saw the blonde's true attention was on him. But Lovino didn't look behind him, he was too furious to think rationally. He held out his hand, asking slowly, as he dealing with a wild animal. "Puoi capire, vero?"

The blonde nodded, he knew Italian very well. He didn't even hesitate, like the medic would to translate. He knew what the Italian was saying. He didn't stop from Lovino, but rather egged him as he spun the necklace on his finger, flicking little spots of red onto the floor.

"Datemi," Lovino began to snarl, "Quella collana_. Adesso_." He emphasized the last part by closing the final space between them, and putting the sharp blade to the blonde's pale throat. "Adesso, bastardo! Datelo a me proprio adesso!"

The ex-Captain giggled, and then tossed it into the air. Lovino nearly dropped the blade he was holding in his hurry to catch it – but that was his mistake. The moment that he let down his guard, the necklace glinted in the lamplight of the room and it was gone –

Then the blonde had the blade to Lovino's throat, and he held him in a tight headlock. He tightened his hold even more though, and grinned. His emerald eyes were no longer hazy nor drugged, very much clear and sober. He laughed loudly, not faking his little giggle from earlier. He was sitting perfectly upright on his cot, and grinning, perfectly and physically able to do any damage that he pleased.

"Thank you, dear boy, for the bandages," the ex-Captain began. "But I'm afraid that I need to share a few words with your Captain." He inched the blade closer to Lovino's neck, making the Italian even more furious at himself for not believing the blonde to still have been a threat. Fucking drugs.

"He's got something I want, and I want it back," the ex-Captain said. "Go wake him up, or I'll be deducting some time from his life." To emphasize his point, the blonde kept a straight face as he kept Lovino in a headlock and moved the blade to rest in the Italian's side.

Blood was immediately spilling from the wound, and pain was soon occupying it. The medic was only frozen to his stance for a split second longer, before he was running from the room, his feet nearly silent.

The moment that the medic was gone, the blonde let out a breath he had been unknowingly holding. He loosened his grip on Lovino, easing the other into a more protective hold, as he stood off the cot. He forced the Italian to walk with him as he stole a small sack from the medic's desk and tossed in a few bottles, including a small purse of money.

"Scusami, ragazzo," the blonde began, "Forgive me." Lovino was choking on some of the blood. But he was still pissed. Both at the medic for not knowing, himself for not knowing or thinking of this, and the blonde for being so damned cunning for pulling off such a trick. "But neither of us wants to be here, and I'm going to help address that to your Captain. I'll send you back home, Lovino. Fidati di me, trust me."

**Could he trust his life with the enemy again?**

* * *

**Well then.**

No one saw this coming.

I know you didn't.

Don't lie to me.

You didn't see it coming either.

You in the back, stop talking smack.

You didn't see it coming, shut up.

**READ AND REVIEW.**


	6. A Dead Man Tells No Tales

******Damned By the Tide**

******Rating:**T

******Summary:** Pirate!AU Lovino was only defending his twin brother from pirates on their island, he had never meant to get captured. He had never meant to become the play thing of the most renowned pirate in the seven seas. He had never meant to fall in love with him. But what did Fate care if he was going mad? Nothing, that's what. SpaMano

**__****BrooklynBabbii**

* * *

******Warning: **Character death**.**

******.:Five:.**

* * *

**My Way**  
by Simkha Shayevitch

I dipped my hands  
in a blue well of night  
and with a mellow smile on my lips  
waited for the hour of absolution  
for the sweet hour of death  
but in my heart  
an eternal light took flame  
and I saw the woe of my mother's life  
- You're still young my child and for you there waits a wife.

I gladly lay down to sleep  
on a brown haystack mid field  
and with a childlike smile on my lips  
waited for silver ships  
to come sailing in my dream  
but gray fingers of the wind  
tore at my black hair:  
-get up and take up the  
prayer  
that in the hungry person rages

Instead I had the urge to bless  
the quiet twinkle of the stars  
and when I dipped my hands once more  
in the cool blue well of night  
again the eternal light  
flamed in my restless heart  
and I heard the sobbing girl:

- See friend how in the night  
the star cries over the roof of the prison

* * *

Everything hurt, it hurt so he was doing everything to contain the pain to the barest minimum that he could. Breathing hurt, so he slowed it to shallow breaths, grated not the most helpful as he bled out in the red coat's arms and his vision swarm, but it hurt so much to simple open his lungs to breathe. Blinking hurt, so he just kept his eyes semi-closed, enough to keep partly aware of the situation but not enough to really pay attention.

How had he ended up this way?

Ah yes, he had tried to take back his brother's necklace. Wait. His brother – Feliciano. Did that mean that the other twin was dead or alive? Damn it, he should have asked these questions before trying to snatch anything. Maybe he would thought through his anger enough to have blocked the attack. His grandfather had always called him impatient – and now look where his impatience had led him.

Stabbed, bleeding out, and in the arms of his enemy's enemy. What a bunch of luck, someone must really hate him up above in the clouds. Or maybe this was all a dream – a nightmare, and he was going to wake up in the medic's room, with another bandage on his head before he had ran his mouth at Antonio or had just walked in on the captain just having a shitty day.

Lovino groaned from the redcoat's hip, stirring slightly and then wincing in his shock that the knife was still embedded in his side. Shit. It hurt, and it looked like it was going to create yet another scar that he had taken up after getting on this ship. This damned ship. That dirty Spaniard – it was all his fault. If the disgusting bastard had just left their village alone and bothered someone else, then this wouldn't have happened. Hell, Lovino would have been happy had the Spaniard actually killed him with that one shot to have started all of this shit or have left him to bleed out and die in the sand, than to have to deal with him now on his ship.

Because – because as it stood now, on water, not land, not Italy, not the countryside, not his own woods or his own lands, the lands he had been born and raised and he had hoped to die on – Antonio had more control over him than he even knew. Lovino hated the water, the waves, he had almost drowned as a child for God's sake, he wanted nothing to do with the ocean.

And yet, here he was – in the middle of it, no idea where, and bleeding in the arms of someone he didn't even know and being used as some form of bait.

Crew members weren't shooting the redcoat, not with Lovino in the redcoat's hold, the crew were too afraid of Antonio's wrath.

Antonio had openly declared that the Italian was only his to lay a hand on, after Lovino had gotten into a bad fight with the quartermaster over something the Italian was doing. It might have been messing around in the armory, even after the battle on the redcoat's ship where he had been seen to have proven himself; or it might have been how Lovino would remain in the medic's room even when Antonio summoned him to his cabin for another interrogation or use as punching bag. Either of the two reasons, or maybe it was both, Lovino had forgotten – whatever the reason, after Antonio had gave the order, Lovino was practically untouchable to the crew members.

Practically. They still roughhoused him, when he didn't answer to their Spanish or English, and when Lovino would try to resist them.

But now, he was untouchable. And so was the redcoat, who Lovino noticed did no longer have his signature red coat that he had come to identify the man with. Lovino hissed and snarled, trying to pull away, and having the redcoat-less blonde huff and grip his neck tighter to yank him back into the better end of his control. Lovino hated it – being in someone else's control.

******:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: **

"_The only thing worse than a man you can't control is a man you can."_

– ******Margo Kaufman**

******:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: **

The Italian snarled, and seeing no one come to his aide, other than the sound of footsteps, and a few hands at their respective weapons. Lovino leaned forward, agitating his wounds, and then proceeding to bite at the redcoat's bare lower arm. He sank his teeth in, enjoying in the curse he had once thought to have been his slight sharp and crooked front teeth. He enjoyed the redcoat's loud curses and shout of pain.

What he did not enjoy was the way he was suddenly let go, and then kicked into the wooden boards of the deck. He coughed, whether it was blood or not, his mouth began bleeding – his lip split from an uneven board. He had the taste of blood in his mouth, and with it, the tang of flesh.

Before he had even taken notice of the rest of his body's aches and pains, he heard a thud and then someone was gripping his hair. Lovino groaned. He couldn't get a break, as a heel of someone's braced at the small of his back and then took a firm grip on his wrists. He heard a small crack in his bones, it wasn't broken, but a some relief came to him – he hadn't gotten to stretch properly in a while. At least, he got something of this – that awful kink in his back was gone.

Oh wait, everything was quiet and wait - why couldn't Lovino see? The Italian took a minute to think, and then realized with almost startling clarity just how long his hair had gotten in the absence of anyone to remind him or cut it for him. The tips had gone over his eyes, and with the sweat lacing down his forehead, from the pain caused by the knife in his side, the auburn strands had began to cling to his face for every ounce of worth that they thought they were. Lovino began to assume that he had never even noticed it before, because of how he had taken up the habit of just pushing it out of his face or stealing the medic's hairbands when he knew the medic wasn't pay attention. Whether or not that the medic had caught on, Alfred was unsure, but he hadn't stolen a headband that day – and it was showing in how someone had a grip on his hair and the hair that wasn't being held was being let to hang in front of his eyes.

Lovino took in a heavy breath, still bleeding out, still in pain, still practically blinded by his own hair, and yes, he was still pissed as all Hell about an outsider having his brother's rosary. He didn't care that the redcoat had asked to be trusted, putting a knife in his side was not going to make him trust. Antonio had only gotten the Italian on his ship by shooting him, so that he couldn't fight back, did the blonde really think that stabbing him was going to make just blatantly trust him?

He would never know what went through these pirate's heads. Hell, he didn't even know now.

Lovino was still angrily going between snarling out vulgar curses in Italian to simply trying to breathe, as the grip in his hair tightened and he felt his body being pulled back. Someone was coming out, walking down the wooden board with confident and sure heavy feet. The murmur and grunts of Spanish stopped as the footsteps seemed to come close and then stop.

Antonio - the captain had finally arrived on the scene.

_About damned time_, Lovino thought heatedly. The pain was making him even more angrier at the littlest things. He hated his hair, he hated how it felt like the bullet was moving in his chest, how the heel at his back was pressing harder and becoming near painful instead of simply a heavy presence.

Lovino made to look up, having no real choice but to with his head being pulled back in such a way now that trying to do otherwise would snap his neck in two. He rather enjoyed living, even if his life was shit right now. From what he could make out between strands of hair, Antonio was not only up but the Spaniard was looking pretty pissed about it. His long hair looked a bit wild, as if he had tossing and turning in his sleep, but he was angry now. He didn't seem too tired, and oh, he was gripping a sword and a gun. Definitely pissed.

The medic was nowhere in sight.

Lovino had only a moment to wonder if the brunet was alright, or even still breathing, when he heard the sound of a gun being cocked. He gave his attention back to reality to see Antonio glaring down at the deck in his direction, and carrying his gun in a display that promised pure pain. "Porque – Arthur, there had better be a good reason for this."

Arthur - the redcoat had a name- said nothing, and found that he was the one holding him in his current position, as his grip tightened. Lovino snarled, but Antonio didn't spare him a glance.

"I am waiting, dog," Antonio said, checking his rounds. Lovino inwardly wondered if he'd be shot too, the Spaniard looked really angry, and something about the way that the fact that he had his gun ready to fire said volumes to the Italian. Wait – dog?

"Don't call me that," Arthur growled, "I don't hold any claim to that part of my life anymore. Let me off this ship alive, and we can all go back to bed."

"But you slept with the English Queen," Antonio said, dramatically. "Gave the throne a son. If I can't call you a dog for that, would you rather I call you a 'bastard', or is that not degrading enough for you?" Antonio scoffed. Antonio brushed his hair behind his hair, toying with his gun, and still managing to look incredibly dangerous even as he held a bullet to the moon. "You always got off on having your ego stroked, I don't see why you're not taking these compliments now."

"Piss off, ya street rat," Arthur snarled, long fingernails inching and coming dangerously close to Lovino's scalp. "If we're only going to name the dark aspects of my past, then may I remind you that I killed your best friend once -"

The foot at Lovino's back moved to rest gently on the hilt of the knife still embedded in his side. Arthur continued, pressing down ever so slightly, watching Antonio for the slightest reaction. " - and I could easily do it again."

There was a slight pause, and then Antonio raised a brow. "The man you hold in your grip is not my best friend, not even my friend. He is my property. Now," Antonio said, and then he clicked the bullet back into place, aiming it, and Lovino felt a stiffen go through him at what he was being called. Property? He was property now?

" - Put down what's mine before I return a long overdue favor." Antonio's voice was grave. Arthur made no move. The crew out on the deck made no move and stayed completely quiet. No one even seemed to breathe – except for Lovino, who was losing precious seconds with every moment the blade remained inside of him. He wondered why and how he was still alive.

Arthur was the one to break eye contact, "Kill me and you'll find yourself in a world of hurt, Antonio." The blonde turned his emerald eyes back to the Spaniard back above him, "And you know it. You'll -"

BANG.

Lovino felt the air in his lungs suddenly leave him as he was thrown forwards unto his knees and his injured side. He cried out, unable to help himself, as pain overwhelmed his nerves. His own limbs refused to obey him, as the knife was pushed further in by the force he had hit the hilt on the deck. Everything hurt. Nothing was making sense in his clouded mind, and he was barely able to lift himself up to cough up blood at the floor, as someone stepped down the stairs.

There was the slight shuffling of feet, and then a pair in his vision. He was being picked up, and then the motion of being carried by someone. It would have been nice, had it not been for the pain. God, the pain, it was nothing like being shot. At least, then, he had thought he was going to die – with this, death seemed so far away. He wouldn't feel its numbness, only the pain brought on by continuing to live and breathe shallow breaths.

There was a sigh voiced by his ear, "Oh, Arthur – I had hoped to have at least get you back to England for the extra 'living status', but I guess the Queen can deal with having her lover back to her, albeit without a pulse."

A chuckle, dark, as the voice continued, "You may rest peacefully, mi amigo, I have upheld my vow."

There was the distant white noise as Antonio ordered the body made up to send back to England as soon they came upon the ports. Orders to preserve the body as best they could with their supplies, and then Lovino found himself slowly losing consciousness. He was grateful for the relief of pain, but he found himself being shaken back awake by Antonio placing him in a bed. An actual bed, not a hammock or a cot. An actual bed, comfy too – wait, Antonio was speaking to the medic, who held his face downwards and away from Lovino's eyes.

The medic was sitting down in a chair by the bed. He had his bag, and then he was digging through it. Lovino found the noise annoying, and grumbled, trying to seek out the relief from his pain in sleep again. Just as quickly as he had closed his eyes, Antonio was jostling him awake again. Snapping his fingers, and calling out to him in Spanish. Lovino begrudgingly opened back up his amber eyes, narrowing them to slits and glaring as hard as he could.

Antonio smirked, "Good to see you're still alive." The smirk fell, "Medic?"

Said man was silent, as he nodded, and before he had even time to fully comprehend what was going on – Antonio was holding him down. The Spaniard was looking dead into his eyes, and his face looked far more dark in the light's shadow, as Lovino felt trapped by the larger's broad shoulders and muscled arms. Arms that dared the Italian to move. Arms that had broken the Italian's skin and bones far more times than the he had liked.

Arms that held him down, even as Lovino grit his teeth over a scream, as the knife was pulled free almost cleanly. Antonio was all but straddling him, having to force the Italian to lie still, as the medic made to tear up his shirt to make the stitches to close the wound. Blood stained the sheets, as Lovino kicked his feet about. Antonio growled, and the sound almost made Lovino falter, but the pain was greater than his fear and he called out the most vulgar thing he knew in Spanish to the Spaniard.

The medic flinched for him, as the Lovino's head lolled to the sides with a harsh and painful crack. Antonio was glaring – the heat in those orbs greater than any fire than Lovino had ever seen. The fist that struck his cheek was poised above him, a silent invitation, but the Italian did not take it. His face was sore, and he was sure to have a black eye in the morning, if he saw it.

But one plus of the punch – he could almost pretend that he couldn't feel himself being stitched up.

Almost.

Lovino remained stay for a while, barely moving, and soon Antonio lowered his fist. When all was said and done, the medic cleared his throat, and Antonio was off to his feet quickly. The Spaniard paid the Italian no mind, as he stormed out and slammed the door closed.

The medic remained around a little while longer to sigh almost forlornly, and Lovino carefully moved his sore and heavy throbbing head to see the medic with his own bandages on his shoulder and across his chest. There was a nick on his lip and nose, a slight bruise forming on his lower chin. Lovino couldn't ask and the medic didn't tell. The medical pirate merely swabbed the Italian's swollen face with something he applied to a rag he had brought. It had a strong smell, and kind of stunk, but when it touched Lovino's skin – it burned, but the pain ebbed slowly away to a dull throb.

"That's all I can do for ya," the medic said in English, the first words he had said the entire time. He sighed again, running his hand through his hair. "Get some rest," he continued. The Italian blinked, not understanding a single thing beyond a few simple words he had picked up and the sentences still not making a lick of sense.

The medic left shortly after blowing out the lamp, without uttering another word, and Lovino was alone in the dark.

Some time later, there was a clink on wood. Lovino slowly opened his eyes, but right as he was trying to get them to focus, the door was shutting again. The Italian almost thought he had imagined hearing things, his head and his side still paining him, the medic's medicine having worn off, but when he turned to go back to sleep -

The rosary sat on the nightstand, glinting in the moonlight.

Lovino stared at it. Stared and stared. Then, despite his protesting side, his arm shot out for it. He took grip on the religious item, brought it to his lips to utter the prayers he had kept up with despite the absence of his own rosary. He had lost his, but with this one, he could hold onto the image of his brother still being alive and pray for him too.

It wasn't a bad deal, and he would enjoy it fully. As he went back to his sleep, he dreamed of his home in Italy. A warm fire, and a warm piece of bread, with a glass of wine. A good book to read, and his dog at his feet, nothing stirring and all was quiet, save for the crackle of fire on wood.

******Would he ever have that life again?**

* * *

******Well then.**

******[EXCUSE TITLE IN BIG LETTERS: INSERT HERE]**

I have finally gotten to this point - it took me 6 chapters.

I apologize on the lateness, once again. I'm just pulling Shatterdolls, and just dropping off the face of Fanfiction with little to no warning. Mostly, just no warning. Meep.

******READ AND REVIEW.**


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